Always Darkest
by Deanie
Summary: A new evil is rising in Los Angeles, and the Angel Investigations crew will need help from the past and the future to defeat it. (Angel/BtVS/Andromeda/LotR/Dracula: the Series). Concurrent with "Before the Dawn."
1. Default Chapter

Title: Always Darkest  
  
Author: Deanie  
  
Rating: PG-13  
  
Genre: Angel/Andromeda/Dracula: the Series/Lord of the Rings Crossover  
  
Timing: This story occurs concurrently with "Before the Dawn" (and, as such is a sort of sequel to "In the Forests of the Night")  
  
Disclaimer: Sadly, I do not own these characters. The Angel Investigations crew belongs to Joss Whedon and Mutant Enemy. Gandalf belongs to J.R.R. Tolkien. Andromeda belongs to Tribune.  
  
Distribution: After the Hellmouth, others, please ask.  
  
Author's Notes: For Angel, this takes place early season four after "The House Always Wins." For Andromeda, this story begins during the second season finale, "The Tunnel at the End of the Light." The third season of Drom never happened in my world. For "Lord of the Rings," this story follows assumes that all events that took place were in the far distant past. For "Dracula: the Series," this story assumes that the events of the show took place in 1990, and all of the characters involved are 12 years older now.  
  
Author's Note, Part 2: Don't worry, Angel fans, the AI crew gets involved in part 2.  
  
Thanks to: Canada and Carol, for their beta-ing, and Valerie and Carol (again) for their suggestions. Thanks guys!  
  
****  
  
10089 CY (5169 AD)  
  
Her name - at least, her current name - was Trance Gemini. She'd had others over the course of her life, some in languages no longer spoken aloud. When she was younger, she'd allowed herself to be worshipped as a goddess, but these days, she wielded her power with much more care. Worlds depended on her, and in this case, her friends' lives depended on her.   
  
She'd never intended to have friends. She'd joined the crew of a little salvage ship called the Eureka Maru because she'd known what would lie ahead for the small group. They were destined for great things, and she had chosen to watch over them, to guide them on their journey. She hadn't expected to care.  
  
Her persona had been young and innocent, so Captain Beka Valentine had taken her under her wing - looking out for and protecting her. Trance hadn't really known what to make of that; it had been a long time since she'd had anyone to protect her. The young engineer, Seamus Harper had quickly become her best friend. He was special, brilliant, with a zest for life undimmed by his past on a world where humans were nothing more than slaves. She'd suspected that Rev Bem, the Magog linguist and unofficial ship's counselor, knew that she was much more than she'd seemed but despite that, he'd embraced her as a friend. His prayer and meditation as a Wayist monk had given him a much different perspective than the rest of the Maru crew, and his counsel had been valuable, even to a being like herself. She'd missed him when he'd finally left them behind, looking for some much-needed peace.  
  
After the Maru crew had pulled the Andromeda Ascendant from where it had been caught in the event horizon of a black hole, Trance had encouraged them to stay on the ship that had once belonged to the long-dead Systems Commonwealth. Captain Dylan Hunt had a destiny as well, and to rebuild the Commonwealth he would need a lot of help.  
  
They all stayed with Dylan. Herself, Beka, Harper, Rev... even Tyr Anasazi, the mercenary who had initially been hired to kill Dylan. He stayed to use the Andromeda to gain the wealth and prestige, increase his status among his people - the genetically-engineered Nietzscheans -- but, like her, had come to care about the crew.  
  
Two years later, the Commonwealth had been rebuilt. But life was never easy... and things never went smoothly. Which led her to where she stood. The current damage to the ship was not simply the work of an anti-Commonwealth saboteur, but the work of dimension-shifting aliens from a parallel universe.  
  
Trance Gemini had traveled back in time, exchanged places with her younger self, just for this moment. In the future she had come from, she'd made mistakes and good people had died. This ship, her crew, and the entire rebuilt Systems Commonwealth had been destroyed in an instant.  
  
This time, a perfect future was still possible - it had to be. She knew what would have to be done.   
  
Trance stared up at the picture on the viewscreen watching thousands of alien spaceships floated through the inter-dimensional tunnel, headed toward the Andromeda and the Commonwealth Fleet. That's why they hadn't seen the aliens before, hadn't been able to stop them when the Andromeda had been attacked. Though, with phase-shifting technology making the aliens invisible, the ship still might have been doomed.  
  
She glanced up as Harper's voice came over the intercom. The young engineer was brilliant, no doubt, and his bomb, affectionately referred to as Roseanne, might be enough to close the tunnel and send those dimension-shifting aliens back where they belong... if only they could get the bomb close enough.  
  
"I bet Roseanne needs a Maru-sized limo to take her to the dance." Beka Valentine stepped down from the pilot's command station, walking in the direction of her ship's hangar.  
  
Trance looked over at Beka. While this was a job for the best slipstream pilot in all the known worlds and her trusty ship, Beka hadn't been successful the last time around, and everyone had died. This time, there was even less margin for error, and Trance didn't want to risk her friends. But she had to. She also had to impress upon Beka the seriousness of this mission, and make sure she was along for the ride. The quickest way to do that? Challenge her. "Beka, no. Dylan is going to pilot."  
  
"Why shouldn't I pilot my own ship?" Beka asked indignantly.  
  
Did she tell Beka the truth about what had happened before? That the pilot had caused the deaths of all of her friends? Trance grabbed Beka by the arm, dragging her over to a corner of the command deck. "Why shouldn't you pilot your ship? Because you did last time, and it didn't work out."  
  
Trance knew that Beka had to go - that was the only way the perfect possible future might be achieved. But she kept coming back to the same thing... she didn't want to risk the lives of her friends...  
  
Suddenly the golden girl realized that Beka had stopped talking, in mid-sentence. She looked around, and everyone was frozen. Could it be the aliens? No. She looked up at the viewscreen, noting that the alien ships were frozen as well, which meant only one thing...  
  
"You must let them go."  
  
Trance didn't turn at the familiar voice behind her. "I know," she replied softly.  
  
"The fate of the world -- of both worlds - depends on it."  
  
"I know, Gandalf." Trance whirled around to face the wizard. "I know that to set things right Beka has to go... and has to get it right this time. Tyr, too." She looked up at the Nietzschean, standing frozen in mid-motion at his command station.  
  
"She will not make it without him."  
  
"What if she doesn't, anyway? What if they both don't make it? Then they'll both be dead, and the world will still be doomed." She started to pace before him, her agitation obvious.   
  
"Neither you nor I can see the future with certainty; we can only know the possibilities." Despite the distressed indecision of the woman in front of him, Gandalf remained calm. Trance would do what was right. The future of the universe depended on it.  
  
"I never thought they'd matter so much. They're mortal, fragile, yet possess more courage than most of my people will ever have."   
  
She smiled ruefully. Her people. Her friends on the Andromeda had known her for more than two years, and Beka and Harper had known her longer than that, but they still didn't know what planet she was from, or exactly what kind of alien she was. While they had ideas about what she was capable of - she had come back from the 'dead' before - they had no way of knowing the extent of her power. Not only could she see the infinite number of possible futures, but she actually had the power to warp the fabric of time, sending Beka and Tyr back to the past to help the Champion stop the forces of evil.  
  
"They're my friends, Gandalf."  
  
"And they have a great role to play in the battle against evil. If the Hellmouth is destroyed, rather than just forced into dormancy, evil throughout the entire universe loses power."  
  
"The Spirit of the Abyss..."  
  
"May not have enough power to create the Worldship that is threatening to destroy all life in your time." He put his hand on Trance's shoulder, reassuring her. "For the sake of both times, both worlds, they must go."  
  
"I know." Trance nodded. "It's time." She walked over to Beka, resuming her previous position in front of the human woman. No more arguments - she would have to let her go.  
  
"Good luck." Gandalf disappeared, and time began again.  
  
****  
  
Trance paced in her corner of command. Beka was on her way to the Eureka Maru, ready to pilot the ship with the bomb to the dimensional tunnel. One thing was still missing, however - Tyr. But how to convince a recalcitrant Nietzschean to risk his life on her word...  
  
The former mercenary hadn't been present on Beka's last trip to the tunnel. Instead Trance had gone, and the two women hadn't been able to hold off the aliens long enough to get the bomb in position. They'd released it too early and their friends had been incinerated.  
  
If this mission were to succeed, Tyr needed to go with Beka. He was her only chance of surviving long enough to destroy the tunnel, saving this universe. Not to mention that if they couldn't get close enough to the tunnel to successfully drop the bomb, they weren't close enough for Trance to use the tunnel's time-and-space-altering properties to send them back in time. They were linked, their destinies intertwined, and they had to make the journey together.  
  
"Tyr!" she walked over to where he stood, firing the Andromeda's missiles at the alien ships.  
  
He said nothing, merely stared, waiting for Trance to reveal her intentions.  
  
"Beka's about to take Roseanne out in the Maru."  
  
"Roseanne." Tyr rolled his eyes. "Trust the little professor to give his invention such a ridiculous name."  
  
"You need to go with her."  
  
"Go with her? Out there, in a tiny spaceship, surrounded by heavily-armed enemy ships that disappear at will? With aliens that appear out of thin air in front of us? Aliens that will be targeting the Maru if they get an inkling of what we are planning? Beka's mission is suicide, and I am not looking for death."  
  
"Death will find you whether you look or not."  
  
He looked up, staring suspiciously at the golden-skinned alien. She had the power to see the future. Was this a prediction about his near future, or simply a ploy devised to manipulate him into following her mysterious agenda?  
  
"If you don't go, we will all die."  
  
"Really." He looked unimpressed.  
  
"It happened before. This is why I came back, to right a serious wrong. In my future, Beka and I went on the Maru."  
  
"You survived..."  
  
"We did. Only Beka and I did. You, Dylan, Harper and the entire Commonwealth fleet were destroyed." She looked him straight in the eyes before continuing. "You have to go with Beka. Protect her, protect the ship long enough for the Maru to get into position to drop the bomb. It's the only chance we have of surviving."  
  
Tyr didn't trust Trance. The alien was far too enigmatic, with her hidden agenda and mysterious powers. He had no doubt that there was much more to her entreaty than that which she shared. Yet he also did not doubt her sincerity in this matter; she truly believed what she had said. He did not want to die, nor, for reasons he did not entirely want to admit to himself, did he want the rest of the crew to die, and she had shown an uncanny knack for predicting future events, even before she had changed places with her other self.  
  
"Take over on fire control," he told her, striding out of command, heading for the Maru. 


	2. Chapter 2

Part 2  
  
Los Angeles, California  
  
2002 AD  
  
Laughing, Angel, Fred, Gunn and Lorne walked back into the Hyperion. Though the trip to Vegas had been much more adventurous than anyone had ever expected, things had worked out in the end. They were safe, they were together, and finally, they were home.  
  
Angel smiled, listening to Fred and Gunn flirt. The streetwise, vampire-fighting tough guy and the brilliant-but-shy science geek from Texas. Definitely an odd couple. Almost like himself and...  
  
No. He wasn't going to think about Cordy, about what might have been. She was a higher being, in a better place now, far away from the troubles of this world. She was safe, above the danger and pain. She was... in the lobby of the hotel?  
  
Angel stopped suddenly, staring. Was he hallucinating, or was the object of his thoughts really right in front of him?  
  
Fred bumped into Angel as he stopped dead in his tracks. Her laughter trailed off as she realized he wasn't moving. What was going on? She peered out around him, her jaw dropping as she realized what he had seen. "Cordelia?"  
  
Cordelia? Gunn looked up, startled. Cordy was back?  
  
Lorne stepped out from behind the group. "Welcome back, princess." He walked forward, arms outstretched, and enveloped Cordy in a hug.  
  
"Lorne!" she cried, returning his hug. "You're finally back." She turned to the others. "Where have you been? I've been waiting for...forever."  
  
"You're back." Angel was still unmoving, unable to believe she was really there in front of him.  
  
"I'm back," she smiled. "Not exactly sure where I'm back from, though... My memory's a little foggy on that point."  
  
"What do you remember?" Fred asked.  
  
"Well, I was driving down the highway, going to meet Angel." She smiled, flushing faintly at the thought of her plans for that night. "The next thing I remember I'm sitting here in the lobby, on this round couch thing and there's no one else around." She grew increasingly concerned as no one spoke. "Why? Have I been gone for days or something?"  
  
The others exchanged looks. She had no idea how long she'd been gone and all that had occurred in her absence.  
  
"Uh, Cordy," Fred began hesitantly. "You've been gone more than days. You were missing for months."  
  
"Months? I was gone for months?" She was shocked, unable to believe what they were telling her. "Where could I have been? I mean, didn't you guys look for me?"  
  
"We looked," Gunn assured her. "But then Lorne went off to Vegas, and Angel disappeared too... We were knee deep into the demon shit and your trail was cold."  
  
"Which made sense, considering where you were..." Fred trailed off, realizing what she'd just said. How did you tell your friend she spent her summer as a higher being?  
  
"Where I was? You just said I was missing and you couldn't find me," Cordy accused suspiciously.  
  
"You were...all summer," Fred stammered. "Until Wesley rescued Angel from the bottom of the ocean, and he stole the Axis of Pythia - Angel, not Wesley stole the axis, from this rude electric girl who killed Charles - and he, that is Angel, used the Axis of Pythia to find you on a higher plane."  
  
Cordy turned to Angel. "Is it just me, or did she not make any sense?"  
  
"I thought she did." Gunn shrugged. "Then again, we're the only ones who've been here all summer."  
  
"Except for Connor," Fred reminded him. "And he's gone now that we discovered he tried to torture Angel by leaving him in a box at the bottom of the ocean."  
  
"Fred got him with the taser." Gunn beamed. "My girl don't take any of that adolescent angst shit."  
  
Fred smiled, basking in the praise. The brat had deserved it, trapping his father in a watery grave, to rot, alive...er, undead, for eternity.   
  
"Okay, now I'm officially confused." Cordy stared at her friends. What the hell had been going on lately?  
  
"Holtz's letter telling me how he approved of my relationship with Connor was a lie." Finally stirred from his stillness, Angel walked over to where Cordy stood. "Instead, he planned his own death, and framed me for it."   
  
"And Connor fell for it," Gunn continued. "Hook like and sinker. Got himself a nice big box and chained dear old dad up inside of it."  
  
"He tossed the box into the Pacific, where I spent the summer starving, hallucinating, and watching the fish float by," Angel finished.  
  
Cordy's eyes widened. Angel spent the summer at the bottom of the ocean. "How did you get out?"  
  
"Wesley," Angel admitted. "Wesley rescued me. Searched the ocean, fed me with his blood, brought me back here."  
  
"Wow." Wesley? Cordelia shook her head. He was back in the fold? She was just getting one revelation after another. "Quite the feat from someone you tried to kill a few weeks - months - ago." Though, come to think of it, Wes wasn't here now. Hadn't that been enough to redeem him in Angel's eyes?  
  
"He's moved on. He has his own crew and isn't interested in us." Angel looked away. He couldn't face her, knowing how poorly he'd treated Wesley. He'd been so angry over Connor's disappearance that he hadn't been able to think straight - and he'd held the watcher responsible. In reality, it was all a part of Sahjahn and Holtz's master plan. Wes had been as much of a victim as the rest of them, only he hadn't had his friends around to help him recover.  
  
Wisely, the rest of the group stayed silent, not commenting on the rift between the two friends.  
  
"Okay. Wesley is still gone. Angel spent the summer sleeping with the fishes. Connor's gone 'cause he sank Angel to deep in the ocean." Leave for a little while, and everything changed. Drastically. Cordy sighed. But wait... there was one thing... "You died?" she turned to Gunn. "When did you die?"  
  
"For a minute." He shrugged, looking at Fred. The thing with electro-chick had freaked his girl out almost more than it had freaked him out - and he'd been the one who died.  
  
"His heart stopped when she electrocuted him. Gwen. The rude woman who shoots electricity from her fingers and steals things for money. But then she restarted his heart." Her eyes narrowed. "Said it was 'like starting a Chevy.'" Fred only wished Angel would have kicked the crap out of the bitch instead of just taking the Axis from her later. Hell, he'd even given her the Axis back, making her God-only-knows how many millions of dollars.  
  
"Easy there, tiger." Gunn pulled Fred back, snuggling her next to his body. He knew that, given the chance, Fred would like to see Gwen's head ripped off. Since their discovery of Connor's betrayal, she'd developed a real bloodthirsty streak - not literally, though, just figuratively... at least, he thought it was only figurative. She'd never actually drawn blood.  
  
"Anything else happen while I was gone?" Cordy asked. She hoped not. She could barely process the changes she'd already heard about, let alone add new ones.  
  
"I was held captive in Vegas and forced to help a supernatural gangster steal people's futures," Lorne offered.  
  
Cordelia groaned. She was starting to get a headache. She rubbed her temples, praying to whatever deity was out there that the pain would... vision! She was having a vision. She gasped. Though nearly pain-free compared to her previous psychic migraines, her "gift" from The Powers That Be still packed quite a punch.  
  
As the images passed through her mind, she grew increasingly confused. What the...? This didn't make any sense. People falling from the sky? How would people even get in the sky? And afterwards, chaos, blood, and death. Rain of fire, eternal night... and death. Death everywhere, unless they could stop... she couldn't see it, couldn't make out exactly what they were supposed to stop. Dammit!  
  
She looked up, seeing the others staring at her. Strangely-dressed people falling from the sky and being attacked by vampires. There was an apocalypse in there somewhere, though she didn't believe it was brought on by the people she saw in her vision.  
  
Why did her first vision since she'd been back have to be so damn weird? They were already looking at her like she'd sprouted two heads. If she told them exactly what she'd seen, they'd think she was even crazier than she already was... better to wait until they were too far gone to come back. Rescue now, worry later. At least the Powers had provided her with a fairly clear idea about where the rescuees were this time.  
  
"Vision. People in trouble." She headed for the weapons closet and grabbed a crossbow. "Let's go."  
  
"Go?" Fred asked. "Where?"  
  
"I'll tell you on the way." With those words, Cordy was out the door, leaving the others to grab their weapons and follow.  
  
"I'll stay here," Lorne offered. He wasn't really good with weapons anyway, and blood clashed with his gold lamé.   
  
The seer stuck her head back in the door. "We've got to motor, people. Places to go, vampires to slay..."  
  
Angel, Fred and Gunn exchanged a look, but nevertheless, grabbed their weapons and headed for the door. 


	3. Chapter 3

Chapter 3  
  
In his lonely apartment, Wesley was polishing his swords. Quite an impressive collection of weaponry he'd amassed, he thought, for quite a different man than he'd used to be. Strong, confident, and heavily armed -- so very different from the doddering Wesley of old. But still alone.  
  
Always alone.  
  
Back to his childhood, locked in the closet under the stairs. Alone. In the dark.  
  
Setting the sword aside, he headed over to the kitchen. He pulled out a bottle of scotch, pouring two generous fingers into a glass and heading back over to the couch.  
  
The letter had come yesterday, postmarked London, his mother's familiar handwriting on the page. "Your father's very sick...dying...a few weeks to live..." Her missive had ended with entreaties for her son to come home, to be with his father in his moment of need.  
  
A letter. He found out his father was dying in a letter. Guess that's what happens when you never answer the phone when they call, he thought. He'd grown sick of his father's weekly recitations of Wesley's 'failures' and his mother's tearful explanations for his father's boorish behavior. So he'd ignored them.  
  
Caller ID was a wonderful thing.  
  
He downed the scotch in one gulp, reveling in the fiery sensation of the liquid burning its way down his throat. He embraced the scorching. These days, the pain was all that let him know he was alive.  
  
He wasn't going back to England. Why should he disrupt his life, pathetic though it was, for a man that had tormented and despised him his whole life? A man who had done everything in his power to make his only son feel small, inferior, helpless?  
  
He was an adult now, no longer helpless. Despite his dismissal by the Watcher's Council he had proven himself an intelligent, capable warrior for the forces of good. Until...  
  
Until he'd proven his stupidity. His gullibility. Until he'd let himself be manipulated by a time-shifting demon. Sahjhan's plan had been perfect. Wesley had betrayed his friends, stolen Angel's son, injured Lorne...all for what? A false prophecy, never real.  
  
Angel may have forgiven him, may have wanted things to go back to the way they were, but nothing would ever be the same again. Angel's wants didn't matter.  
  
Wesley still couldn't forgive himself for being so susceptible to the demon's machinations, still couldn't forgive Angel for his reaction. Even knowing why Wes had kidnapped Connor, Angel had still tried to murder his former friend.  
  
He stared at the letter again, unhappy memories threatening to overwhelm him.  
  
Maybe he should get another drink.  
  
The ringing of the phone broke him from his reverie. Cell phone, not his home number. He glanced at the caller ID on his cell phone. Not Angel Investigations, not his parents. Business, perhaps, though he doubted that since the caller wasn't even local. "Hello." He picked up the phone on the second ring.  
  
"Wesley? It's Buffy."  
  
"Buffy?" Wesley asked, startled. He hadn't heard from the Slayer since her last trip to L.A. That was nearly two years ago. He knew she usually called Giles if she needed any Watcher-type knowledge. What could she possibly want with him? "What can I do for you?"  
  
"I need information, Wesley, on magical poisons. Something specialized. Something powerful enough to kill an elf."  
  
"An elf?" he asked in disbelief. She couldn't have really meant that. Very few elves still existed in this world. She couldn't really have said... "Did you say an elf?"  
  
"Yes. Pointy ears, shiny hair, the works. An elf. He's in my living room dying, and we don't know why. He acted like he's got a bad case of the flu, only now he's unconscious."  
  
Her description certainly sounded like an elf, but with one key problem. "Elves are immortal. They can't catch human diseases."  
  
"I know. Which is why we think he's been hit by some kind of mystical poison. It's bad, Wes. The last time I saw something this bad was when..."  
  
"When Angel was poisoned," the Watcher finished. That night had been one of his biggest regrets. He hadn't been able to help Buffy then, constrained by his duties to the Council, still far too determined to prove himself to them and to his parents to rebel for the sake of a young girl's love. If only he had... "I'm sorry I didn't help you then."  
  
"Water under the bridge Wes. What matters now is Legolas."  
  
"Legolas? The Legolas?" One of the most well-known elves in all of history was still alive? And he was lying unconscious on Buffy's couch?  
  
"Yeah. Giles told me he was famous. I know all about the Fellowship, the One Ring, yadda, yadda, yadda. What I don't know is how to cure him."  
  
Wesley could hear the concern in Buffy's voice. Whoever - whatever - this person was, he meant a lot to the Slayer.   
  
He couldn't help her before when she needed him. This time was different. "I don't know of any poison that powerful, off the top of my head, but I've got books on the subject. I'll look into it. Failing that, I'll ask the Watcher's Council."  
  
"I don't exactly have a lot of faith in the Council, Wes."  
  
He knew she was still thinking of the night she'd asked him to help Angel, but this was different in two vital ways. One -- elves, unlike vampires, were creatures of good to be protected. Two - he wasn't one to take orders from the Council anymore. "There's no stipulation against helping elves, Buffy. And even if there were... well, let's say if the Council knows anything, I'll find out what it is."  
  
"What if...?"  
  
"I'll find out." Whatever it took, whoever he had to threaten. Whatever was going on in Sunnydale was serious business, and he was going to get to the bottom of it.  
  
"Thanks, Wesley."  
  
"I'll be in touch."  
  
He hung up, lost his contemplation of Buffy's words. He had several volumes on poisons, magical and otherwise.  
  
Legolas. The Legolas. In Sunnydale. What could that possibly mean? As a rule, the elves who hadn't crossed he sea to Valinor did not pay attention to ordinary events of the mortal world. Which mean that something extraordinary was going to happen, with Buffy and her friends in the thick of it. He must find out more. Both to save the elf and determine what was going to happen to the world.  
  
His letter from home forgotten, Wesley got down to work. 


	4. Chapter 4

Chapter 4  
  
Beka held onto the ship's controls, trying to keep the disruptions from the tunnel's wake from pushing them off course. The Maru had to deliver Harper's bomb exactly where it needed to be for this mission to be a success - for the universe to be saved.  
  
"Coming in low and slow. Preparing to launch Roseanne," Beka announced, her eyes focused on the viewscreen ahead, not chancing to look back at Tyr. So far so good. The dimension-shifting aliens hadn't tried to attack the Maru - yet - and they were mere seconds away from victory. "Ten, nine, eight," she began the countdown.   
  
At "six," she heard the alien growl, heard the crunch of bone and flesh as Tyr fought with the creature. She cried out his name, hoping he'd say something to let her know he was okay, but he didn't. Only the sounds of his continuing struggle let her know he was even alive.  
  
Then, she was in position, ready to drop the bomb. As she pressed the button, she breathed a sigh of relief, thanking the Divine. No matter what happened from here on out, even if they didn't survive, their mission had been accomplished. Harper, Dylan, Trance, Rommie...the whole Commonwealth would be safe.  
  
As the bomb exploded in the tunnel, shockwaves raced through space. The force of the blast and the resulting gravity wake rocked the cargo ship, setting off explosions that nearly tore the vessel apart. The smell of burning metal permeated the air as a wall of fire flew through the ship.  
  
Beka screamed as force and energy ran through her body. She was being ripped in pieces; she was going to die. She saw a blinding blue light envelop the ship before everything went black.  
  
****  
  
It was done. Trance gave a sad smile as she felt Beka and Tyr disappear from this time. No one else could know that she knew they were gone, so she had to act normally - well, as normal as Trance Gemini got. "Beka did it!" she shouted, showing her enthusiasm. Despite her sadness at her friends' disappearance, she was excited. No matter what happened now -- or what would happen then -- the tunnel was destroyed. Beka and Tyr had accomplished something great.  
  
"Rommie, find the Maru," Dylan commanded.  
  
"Scanning," the AI replied, her fingers moving quickly over her computer station.   
  
Trance wished she could tell them what had happened, that it had to happen for history to be right, for all people to be safe. Gandalf was right - Beka and Tyr had had to go back in time. That was what they were meant to do.  
  
Harper's voice came over the intercom, telling how the bomb had destroyed the enemy's dimension-shifting capabilities, leaving the Andromeda and the Commonwealth safe in their own dimension.  
  
Harper would miss them. He'd loved Beka like a big sister for years, and lately he and Tyr had become almost as close as brothers. He'd worry, and grieve when he assumed they were dead. Trance looked over at Dylan and Rommie. They'd all mourn Beka and Tyr's "deaths."  
  
"Rommie, the Maru," Dylan urged again, worry apparent in his voice.  
  
"I've found it. It's on its way back to the ship...on autopilot."  
  
Trance saw the horror in Dylan's eyes before he raced off of the bridge to the docking bay. "I'm sorry," she whispered. Rommie, with her hyper-acute android hearing, looked at her strangely before turning back to the viewscreen.  
  
"Stay safe," Trance wished silently, hoping her friends would find their way back home one day.   
  
****  
  
Meanwhile, the crew from Angel Investigations were racing through the streets of twenty-first century Los Angeles.  
  
"Cordelia." Angel tried to concentrate on driving, but Cordy's lack of communication was maddening. She hadn't told anyone where they were going, though she gave clear directions to the unknown location.  
  
"Are you going to tell us where we're goin' anytime soon?" Gunn asked. "'Cause this 'mysterious silence' thing isn't workin' for me anymore."  
  
"We're almost there," Cordy assured him. "There!" she pointed to the right. "That's where we're going."  
  
As the Angelmobile pulled up against the curb, the crew jumped out, weapons ready. Cordelia looked up, scanning the sky.  
  
Fred, noticing the direction of Cordy's gaze began to worry more than ever. "Are we going to be abducted by aliens? Because I've read that it's very unpleasant."  
  
"Almost time," Cordelia strode down a nearby street, leaving the others to catch up.  
  
Angel sprinted to catch up with her and grabbed her arm, spinning her around. "We're not going any further until you explain exactly what you're up to and where we're going."  
  
"We have to help these people," Cordy began. She took a deep breath, looking around at all of her friends before continuing. "The people who are going to fall out of the sky."  
  
"That's ridiculous," Angel insisted. "People don't just fall out of the sky."  
  
The group looked up as a flash of blue light shone in the sky, with what appeared to be two people falling from the blue light.  
  
"Except for those people," Gunn commented.  
  
"Let's go," Cordelia commanded, heading in the direction of the falling people.  
  
****  
  
Beka opened her eyes as she felt herself falling. What the hell was going on? The Maru was missing, she was in the sky over a planet, and she was falling fast, without any anti-grav equipment to break her fall.  
  
"I hate planets," she murmured, falling into something soft and incredibly pungent.  
  
She sat up and looked around. She was in a big metal bin, filled with... yep, garbage. Well, that would explain the stench -- she was in some kind of garbage bin. Ew. Beka shrugged. At least it had cushioned her landing. She climbed to her feet and clambered over the bin's edge. She landed on her feet on the hard ground.  
  
Beka pulled out her Gauss gun before surveying her surroundings. She was in an alley, that much was instantly obvious. Buildings towered around her, lights of nearby buildings stretching up to the sky. Seemed to be a pretty big city, likely a fairly advanced place. Still, she didn't see any ships above her, and there were strange noises coming from the front of the alleyway, sort of like ships whizzing by close to the ground.  
  
A society that still used ground transportation? Maybe not as advanced as she'd first thought. "Only one way to find out," she said under her breath.  
  
No sign of Tyr. Wherever he was, she hoped he was okay. Damn it, why couldn't they have stayed together? If she was going to be confronting potentially hostile aliens on an unknown planet, she couldn't think of anyone she'd rather have at her back than Tyr. There might be other reasons why she wished he were here, but those were things she didn't want to think about right now.  
  
Beka kept her gun at the ready as she surveyed the alley. She needed to find something to tell her exactly where she was.  
  
She stilled as another figure moved into the alley. Two people, she amended, as the two men stepped closer. One was blond, the other dark-haired, but they were both tall and muscular, and both dressed all in leather. Tough guys with attitude.  
  
"Well, look what we have here," said the blond. As he stepped under the streetlight, Beka realized he wasn't human. He had ridges on his forehead, and very sharp-looking teeth...almost like fangs.  
  
Damn. This really, didn't look good, she thought to herself, tightening her grip on her gun. She didn't want to shoot anyone before she knew something about this planet and its people - but she was reassured that it was an option if these... things... really did attack her.  
  
The two men cautiously approached Beka, one from the left, the other from the right. "Looks like we found someone to have a little fun with," the dark-haired vampire sneered.  
  
Beka leveled her gun at him, keeping one eye on the other man. "I think you'll find that I'm not really one for 'fun.'"  
  
He laughed, as if being held at gunpoint was something funny. "Look, Ray," he said, smirking at Beka. "The chick's got a gun."  
  
"Yeah, Doug. She's armed," he snickered.  
  
Beka involuntarily took a step backwards. They were laughing at her gun. Not a good sign. Maybe she was in more trouble than she originally thought.  
  
The dark-haired man - Doug - opened his arms wide, making himself a perfect target. "Go ahead, babe. Shoot me."  
  
She hesitated, and he lunged at Beka, almost too quickly for her to see. She landed flat on her back, with Doug on top of her, her gun pointed directly at his heart. "Go ahead," he said. "Make my day."  
  
Beka pulled the trigger, scorch marks from her gun spreading over her attacker's chest. She pushed him off of her, jumping to her feet and leaving the dead body behind her.  
  
"So, Ray." She carefully aimed her gun in his direction. "You want to be next?"  
  
She stared, puzzled, as he smiled. "No, actually. I think he does."   
  
The blond pointed behind her, but Beka wasn't going to fall for it. The only one behind her was dead Doug. No one could survive a point-blank Gauss Gun blast through the heart. Unless...   
  
A look of horror crossed her face as she felt a hand on her neck. Had she landed on a planet of people invulnerable to gunfire? She gasped in pain as she was gripped harder, her body pulled back until she was flush against her attacker's body. "That wasn't very nice," he growled in her ear, his sharp teeth scraping along the tender flesh of her neck.  
  
Beka struggled against him, but he was too strong - super-humanly strong. He was an immovable object, and now, he was pissed. At her. He grabbed her gun with his other hand, forcing her arms down as Ray moved in closer with fangs bared.  
  
Beka began to hyperventilate. She'd landed on a planet of evil, flesh-eating, gun-proof monsters. She was going to die.  
  
"I think it's dinner time," the blond snarled, and each man leaned in closer, one on either side of Beka's neck.  
  
Rebecca Valentine closed her eyes and prepared to die. 


	5. Chapter 5

Chapter 5  
  
After his phone call from Buffy, Wesley had delved into research. Elves were such an ancient race, their presence so rare in modern society that little information about them was still available.  
  
"Immortal," he muttered. This last book said the same as the five previous. "Immortal. Invulnerable to the ailments of man. Can be killed in battle, or die of a broken heart. Nothing about poison. Dammit!" He slammed the book closed.  
  
He grabbed his teacup from its place on the corner of the table, grumbling as he realized his tea was cold. He stood up, running one hand through his shaggy brown hair. He needed more caffeine, though that really wasn't going to solve any of his problems. The information he was looking for simply couldn't be found in any of the ordinary sources. Perhaps on the inter-dimensional black market... though that was unlikely, as elves were definitely creatures of this dimension.  
  
He sighed as he put the kettle on to boil. There was only one source that he hadn't tried - the Watcher's Council.  
  
He knew he'd been a disappointment to the Council, his behavior inappropriate enough to have him declared rogue and off-limits to all of his former colleagues. He'd sided with a vampire, Angel, against the council enforcers when they'd come to take out Faith. Never mind that Angel had a soul, and was fighting the darkness harder than the Council ever had. He was still a vampire, worthy of slaying, not of saving.   
  
Things hadn't been that black and white to Wesley in a long time. Not since he'd left Sunnydale three years ago.  
  
Vampires could be good - albeit only after supernatural interference. And, of course, humans could be bad. Witness Faith, a scheming murderer who had tortured the very people who had come to help her.  
  
He gave a choked laugh. How the Watcher's Council saw her, perhaps. Through their view of black and white. Reality was far more complex. The Council hadn't given a damn about helping her. They'd likely have killed her once hey realized they couldn't control her. After all, a Slayer who had to be locked up for society's protection was no good to the Council.  
  
His father sat on the Council, would undoubtedly continue to do so until his demise. He'd never give up the power, the control. Not that his father would be any help. He'd be more likely to thwart the plans of his ne'er-do-well son than actually assist in any way.  
  
Still, he had to still have friends inside the Watcher's Council. Surely he knew someone who could help.  
  
****  
  
Hours later, Wesley was cursing the Council. Rule-obsessed, tight-assed, self-obsessed buggers, the whole lot of them. No one on the Council would even talk to him, down to the lowliest Watcher-in-training. Even his own father.  
  
He'd cut his ties when he'd chosen to Angel over the Council. Didn't matter that he'd been right. They'd never admit it. They were the Watcher's Council and they were always right.  
  
Wankers.  
  
There was still one person. She'd fight him, arguing incessantly, but in the end, she'd listen, because she was still good to the core. One of the few Watchers who actually fought the good fight, instead of just talking about it. Someone who cared more about people than policies.  
  
He picked up the phone, flipping open his address book to the proper listing, and dialed. He only hoped she'd be in her office this early.  
  
Far across the Atlantic, a twentysomething brunette flipped her long, wavy hair over her shoulder and picked up the phone. "Sophie Metternich."  
  
"Sophie, hello."  
  
She recognized his voice instantly. Wesley Wyndham-Price. She'd worked with him when he was at Watcher Headquarters four years ago, before he'd been called to action to watch the Slayers, Buffy and Faith. She hadn't liked him much, then. Pompous and overconfident, he'd actually believed that his Watcher-sponsored, carefully controlled close encounters with vampires had prepared him for the real thing. She snorted. As if that was remotely like the real thing. He'd been doomed, right from the start.  
  
He'd failed, miserably. Lost one Slayer when she'd gone rogue, lost the other when she'd fired him. Before he could be sent back to England in disgrace, he'd been rejected by the Council. A few months later all the Watchers had been abuzz with the news - Wesley had rejected his Council compatriots to help a vampire. Angelus.  
  
Of course, Angelus had gotten his soul back and turned over a new leaf. He was actually helping fight against the darkness he'd once embraced. Not that it had mattered to the Council. They were self-righteous bastards themselves, for the most part.  
  
She'd heard that Wesley had been calling all the Watchers, asking for some sort of help and knew she'd get a phone call sooner or later. She'd just hoped it would have been later.  
  
"Wesley, how are you?" she asked politely.  
  
"I need your help."  
  
"No." Whatever he wanted, it was going to lead to major trouble -- she was sure of it.  
  
Damn. She wasn't even going to listen to what he wanted. He had to convince her, somehow. "Sophie..."  
  
"No, Wesley. Whatever you want, the answer is no." She had to stand firm, couldn't let herself be persuaded by his sure-to-be-clever words.  
  
"I need help," he insisted. "I'm calling you because-"  
  
"I'm the only person sappy enough to listen?"  
  
"Because I know that you care more about people than Council policy. And people's lives are at stake."  
  
Sophie swore. Why did she let herself be sucked into these kinds of things? She sighed. She did it because she'd become a Watcher to help people, to beat back the darkness no matter what the cost. And Wesley was fighting the darkness, albeit in his own, not-quite-Watcherly way. Merde. He had her, and he knew it.  
  
"Something big is happening in California. A great evil is rising."  
  
"From beneath you it devours," she murmured, recalling the words she'd overheard Quentin Travers mention the day before. She'd wondered what he meant.  
  
Wesley stopped, startled. She knew more than he'd expected her to. "Yes. 'From beneath you it devours.' Though what 'it' will be is anyone's guess. But that is not the whole of it. I called the council because of an elf."  
  
Sophie blinked. "An elf?" she asked incredulously. The ancient, immortal warriors were few in numbers, and generally kept away from humankind. What could a rogue Watcher possibly have to do with an elf?  
  
"This elf met a friend of mine in the woods several weeks ago. They stopped a demonic ritual together, then went their separate ways." He paused for a moment, allowing her to take the information in. "The elf showed up on her doorstep this morning, gravely ill-"  
  
"Elves don't get sick," she protested. "They're immortal, immune to human diseases."  
  
"But not to mystical poisons."  
  
Sophie closed her eyes as she realized why he was calling. He needed access to the Council's database of all known poisons. And this was a request she couldn't refuse - not if this elf's life was at stake. One thing she didn't understand, though. "Why poison? Why not just decapitate him or something? Elves are as vulnerable as anyone else to battle damage."  
  
"The friend I mentioned, the one who helped him stop the evil ritual in the woods? She's Willow Rosenberg."  
  
"What?" Sophie had heard whispers, rumors of the great evil power, the dark witch who had done so much several months before. "Willow Rosenberg? Wasn't she the witch who tried to end the world?"  
  
"Yes," he explained. "After the murder of her lover, Willow embraced dark magics so she could have her revenge on the bastard that killed her. She's supposedly recovered from her bout with the darkness, but one would assume that if she lost someone else she cared about..."  
  
"She'd be pushed back over the edge, become evil again." She grimaced. As far as evil plans went, that one was quite good. Kill a strong warrior and turn a powerful witch to the dark side, all with one little bit of poison. "Not a bad plan."  
  
"Not bad at all. Which is why we have to stop it. We have to find a way to cure Legolas-"  
  
"Legolas?" she asked. The shocks just kept on coming. Even a Watcher with little study of elf history, like herself, recognized the name of one of the greatest Elven warriors in history. Starting with the Fellowship, and continuing with his millennia of demon slaying in this increasingly modern world, his life was legend.  
  
"Yes, it's *the* Legolas." He paused, before continuing on to make his point clear. "And he needs your help. Sophie, you may be the only one who can save him now."  
  
"Help me, Obi-Wan Kenobi, you're my only hope?" she said, Wesley's words reminding her of one of her favorite childhood movies.  
  
"Something like that," he said wryly  
  
"This isn't going to be easy," she cautioned. She was a junior Watcher, and didn't have access to the Council's most important documents. She didn't know how she was going to get into the restricted part of the library, where books like the Watchers' Council's compendium of poisons was located.  
  
"Nothing worth doing ever is."  
  
"Give me your number," she commanded, tucking the phone under her chin while grabbing pen and paper in her other hand. "I'll call you when I have the information."  
  
Wesley sighed with relief. Finally, he'd found someone to help him. And quite the competent someone, as well, he thought, as he rattled off the number. "Thank you."  
  
She smiled, gathering up the papers on her desk and stacking them in a pile. "Don't thank me until I get the job done."   
  
"Sophie, be careful," Wesley warned.  
  
"I'm not just your ordinary Watcher, remember? I was raised by Gustav Helsing, grew up in Dracula's backyard. I can handle myself," she insisted.  
  
Wesley smiled at her vehemence. He knew she was one of the few Watchers with real vampire hunting field experience, her childhood guardian being Gustav Helsing, the legendary Watcher who fought Dracula for decades. "If whoever is behind this finds out what we're doing, your life could be in danger."  
  
"Wouldn't be the first time," she quipped, putting the papers into the pocket of her leather laptop case. She swung the long strap over her shoulder as she prepared to head out. "I'll call you when I get the book."  
  
"All right," Wesley said.  
  
"Bye." She hung up the phone without waiting for his response. Now, to head over to Watcher Headquarters. Hopefully she could get all the information she needed with a quick read. If not, she was about to join Wesley on the rogue side of the fence, because she wasn't leaving without the information she needed -- even if she had to steal from the Watchers' Council to do it. 


	6. Chapter 6

Chapter 6  
  
Beka's eyes were closed as she waited for the blinding pain to strike, followed by the blissful oblivion of her death.  
  
She felt fangs scrape her neck, then a sudden rush of air as her captors' bodies were pulled away from her. Her eyes snapped open. "Tyr!" she exclaimed, as the Nietzschean hit Doug with an uppercut that sent him sprawling to the ground. She'd never been happier to see anyone in her whole life.  
  
When the two men who had attacked Beka were on the ground, writhing in pain, Tyr picked up his Gauss Rifle, spraying them with rounds of rifle fire. They slumped to the ground, unmoving.  
  
Tyr nodded with satisfaction. That takes care of those two. Still, he was puzzled as to why Beka, who was a competent fighter and excellent shot, hadn't been able to dispatch her opponents on her own. Had she been injured when they'd come upon her? Perhaps due to their fall from the sky to this strange world.  
  
He held out his hand, helping her to her feet. Without the support of her captors, she'd slumped to the ground and remained there, unable to move. He visually inspected her, looking for injuries. Blood was oozing from scrapes in her neck, otherwise, she appeared unharmed.  
  
"Tyr," Beka said urgently. "Turn around."  
  
He gave her a puzzled look. "Turn around?"  
  
She pushed him around, pointing to the two men, who were climbing back to their feet. "These things don't die when you shoot them!"  
  
Tyr's eyes widened. Now that was new. But still, there was one way to take care of them. As the first attacked, he grabbed his neck, snapping it with a sickening crunch.  
  
The second man, the blond man known as Ray was moving more cautiously, crouched in a fighter's stance.  
  
Tyr feinted left, distracting the other man, then moved in to the right, capturing Ray's neck in one large hand. "I look forward to snapping your scrawny neck," he growled.  
  
The blond began to laugh uproariously. Obviously, these people knew nothing about vampires. And he wasn't about to enlighten them. No matter how many times he and Doug were 'killed,' they would always return, unless they were staked or decapitated. And those two didn't look like they were packing stakes.  
  
Tyr fought viciously, using his expert skill to subdue the other man, breaking his neck and tossing him next to his friend.  
  
"Are you all right?" he asked Beka.  
  
She merely nodded, her throat burning from when she'd been grabbed. "Thanks," she rasped.  
  
"Don't mention it," he smiled. "Do you have any idea why those men were trying to kill you?"  
  
Beka shook her head. "No. But they were trying to bite me. I'm starting to think we landed on a planet of insane super-human cannibals."  
  
Tyr's eyes narrowed. Admittedly, the attackers were stronger than normal humans, and they did appear to try to bite Beka, but a planet of cannibals seemed highly improbable. Then again, he and Beka had been thrown through a mysterious time/space tunnel, lost their ship, and landed on a strange new planet populated by people impervious to gunfire. "Let's go. Undoubtedly someone will come looking for these two...sooner or later."  
  
Beka nodded. "Getting out of the alley is good." She'd nearly died more than once here today. She'd like to put as much distance between herself and this alley as was humanly possible.  
  
The two headed for the exit from the alley, but were stopped short in their tracks by an unbelievable sight. Despite their broken necks, Ray and Doug were on their feet...and they looked pissed.  
  
"Uh, I think this is the point where we make a run for it," Beka suggested, only to find any hope of escape cut off by the appearance of two more men near the opening to the street.  
  
The two new arrivals, like their adversaries, had ridged foreheads and large, fang-like teeth. Beka involuntarily took a step backwards. Their attackers weren't just gun-proof, they were immortal. She and Tyr were going to die.  
  
Tyr stared, dumbfounded, at the men before him. How could anyone be on his feet after having his neck broken in two? They hadn't been breathing, their hearts hadn't been beating. They'd clearly been dead. Wait. He stared at the four. Walking and talking, certainly, but still not breathing, still lacking a heartbeat.  
  
"They're dead," he told Beka.  
  
"Zombies?" she wondered. "Like the Bokor?"  
  
"Does it really matter what we are?" asked one of the newcomers, a tall, lanky man with wearing jeans and a leather jacket. "You'll be equally dead no matter what."  
  
"That remains to be seen," Tyr cautioned. Despite the overwhelming odds and seemingly unstoppable opponents, Tyr Anasazi, out of Victoria by Barbarossa, was not ready to die.  
  
"You can't kill us," Doug growled, then suddenly exploded in a cloud of dust.  
  
"They might not be able to," interrupted Cordelia, brandishing her crossbow. "But we can." Behind her stood Angel, Gunn, and Fred -- all armed.  
  
"That's right boys," quipped Gunn, gripping his axe tighter. "It's time to die."  
  
Suddenly, the alley was a blur of activity. A vampire rushed Angel, who swung out with his left hand, beating back his opponent, while pulling a stake from his right sleeve. Angel's opponent stared in disbelief, then was quickly dusted.  
  
Gunn jumped in front of Fred as the jeans-clad vampire attacked. He swung his axe, catching the vamp in the shoulder before taking a hard punch to the solar plexus. Fred let a bolt fly from her crossbow, but was knocked off balance by the attacking vampire and her shot hit his shoulder. Momentarily distracted by the injury, the vamp was unprepared for Gunn's next blow, the axe severing his head from his body, turning him to dust as well.  
  
Beka and Tyr watched the proceedings with rapt fascination. These things could be killed, they realized. They just hadn't known how to do it.  
  
Ray looked around in fear as his compatriots fell. They were vampires. They were supposed to be immortal, eternal. He couldn't die here, in the alley.  
  
Ray's head snapped back at Tyr's first punch. He recovered quickly, blocking Tyr's next shot, but he was no match for the enraged Nietzschean. Tyr yelled, an incoherent sound of rage, then ripped Doug's head completely off his body. As he'd predicted, the man exploded in yet another cloud of dust.  
  
Beka walked to Tyr's side, unable to do anything but stare. Not only had they landed on a planet of evil, super-human cannibals, they'd landed on a planet of evil, super-human cannibals that turned to dust when beheaded or poked with a sharp wooden stick. Truly bizarre.  
  
Beka pinched herself. Was she dreaming? This couldn't be real, could it?  
  
Tyr stared at the strange humans who had saved their lives. The apparent leader was a woman, tall and slim with shoulder-length dark blonde hair. She was holding some sort of ancient projectile weapon. Her companions carried other primitive weaponry. The bald black man carried an axe, the other woman had a projectile weapon similar to the first woman's. Curiously, the tall man with dark hair had held a sword, but had released it to jab at their attackers with a sharp stick.  
  
Beka had retrieved her Gauss gun and pointed it at the newcomers. True, they'd saved herself and Tyr from certain death at the hands of indestructible cannibals, but they might have had something even more sinister in mind. She didn't know if the gun would stop them, but she felt much more comfortable with it in her hand. They'd landed on a bizarre world where guns didn't kill people, but poking them with wooden sticks caused them to explode into dust. She wasn't going to take anything for granted.  
  
Cordy and crew approached the two slowly. If her vision had been correct -- and it always was -- the lanky blonde and the buff black man had come from a world much different than this one. Time travel, parallel universe, she didn't know exactly where they were from, just that they would play a key role in the upcoming apocalypse.  
  
She smiled, pointing her crossbow away from Tyr and Beka. "Welcome to Los Angeles." 


	7. Chapter 7

Chapter 7  
  
Sophie had made a quick stop by her flat to pick up a bag, in case she had to hide what she was taking from the Council library. She had a very bad feeling about this mission. She just knew something was going to go horribly wrong.  
  
Better safe than sorry, she thought, gathering her passport, toothbrush, and a change of clothes. Just in case I have to leave London in a hurry, she thought. As a last minute thought, she picked up a very old picture - one of her, age fifteen, with Chris, Max, and Uncle Gustav, outside the house in Luxembourg.  
  
They'd grown apart long ago. Even Uncle Gustav, who was now a fellow Watcher. He wasn't really her uncle at all, not in a biological sense, but had been her guardian since her parents' death when she was 7. Her best friends during her teenage years had been his nephews Chris and Max, who had lived with Gustav until they graduated from high school.   
  
Now, aside from seeing Gustav once in a while at a Watchers' meeting, she didn't have any contact with them at all. Chris, eschewing the magical world, had concentrated on his guitar playing and was now on the road with his band. Their first album had been quite well received in Europe. Max had gone the other way. He'd become obsessed with vampire hunting, and when he'd finally realized he was never going to destroy Lucard, he'd turned his sights to destroying other vampires. Maximillon Townsend, rogue vampire hunter, was well-known for taking dangerous chances. One of these days, he was going to get himself killed.  
  
Now, Sophie. Concentrate on the now, she reminded herself. The past wasn't important. All that was important was finding the cure for this elf, and getting it to Wesley.  
  
Grabbing her now-packed bag, she stepped out into the street, locking the door behind her. She chided herself for being so paranoid as she realized that in her mind, she thought she'd never be back here again. Crazy. She wasn't psychic, so why was she so unnerved by her prediction?  
  
She shook off her doubts and headed over to Watcher Headquarters. She had research to do.   
  
  
  
****  
  
Watcher Headquarters was much more crowded than she'd anticipated. What were all these people doing here before dawn? Had Travers called a meeting of some kind? She spotted a number of senior Watchers, people from all corners of the world. Something big was going on, something the head of the Council wasn't sharing with the junior Watchers.  
  
That didn't matter, not really. What did matter was getting to the library and getting that book. All she had to do is head up one more floor and...  
  
"Sophie!" a familiar voice called out from a nearby room.  
  
"Uncle Gustav." She smiled, hoping that he didn't see through her insincerity. "What are you doing in London?"  
  
"Oh, you know." He shrugged. "Watcher business." He grabbed her arms, turning her around to face him. "How are you?"  
  
"Good." She nodded. "Just heading up to the library for a little research." There, she'd covered her tracks. But while he was here, maybe she could find out about the secret meeting. "Uncle Gustav, is there something going on?"  
  
"What do you mean?" he asked innocently. Of course she knew something was going on. Sophie wasn't stupid. In fact, she was smarter than most of the Council put together. The plan was going to end badly, he knew it. He only hoped that there were enough of them around afterwards to make it right. If there weren't... someone would need to lead the way. Someone like Sophie. "I always liked the Council's Library. Very thorough. They have a complete copy of Seamus Gevarter's work, you know. He was always one of my favorites."  
  
Sophie merely stared. What was he talking about? Who was Seamus Gevarter, and why was Uncle Gustav making it a point of mentioning it now?  
  
"I must be off. Meeting, you know." He patted Sophie's arm, before pulling her in for a hug.   
  
As Sophie hugged him back, she had a very bad feeling about what was going on. It was almost like Gustav was saying goodbye.  
  
"I'm very proud of you. Take care of yourself," he said, before disappearing into a throng of people.  
  
"Uncle Gustav!" she called after him, but he was nowhere to be seen.  
  
Weird. That was just plain weird. She shrugged. Uncle Gustav could take care of himself, she reminded herself. No matter what was going on, he'd be fine. She just needed to find the book of poisons and cures, and figure out who Seamus Gevarter was and why Uncle Gustav had made a point of mentioning him.  
  
Sophie headed into the library, which was nearly deserted. Curious, considering the hour. Should be prime researching time, which gave credence to her idea that many of the other Watchers were up to something she didn't know about.  
  
A Watcher was hanging out in the secure section, where she knew the book on poisons was located, so she decided to research the Gevarter issue.  
  
"Gevarter, Gevarter," she muttered to herself, poking through a dusty bookshelf. "Aha! Seamus Gevarter. Apocalyptic Beasts. Prophecies on the Ending of the World, Rain of Fire and other signs of the Apocalypse." She read the episode titles softly aloud. This Gevarter guy seemed to be heavily into the end of the world. He had nearly a dozen books there. She would never have time to read them all.   
  
Did she take them with her? She'd decide later. She grabbed all of the books, setting them down on a table near her bag, then checked out the secure section. No one was there - in fact, she was the only person in the library. Perfect time for a rebel junior Watcher to sneak a peak at one of the Council's most valued books.  
  
She'd just found the book when a voice interrupted her. "The Library is closing!" announced a Watcher from the doorway. "Miss, please get your things and leave."  
  
Damn. She hadn't even opened the book, let alone found the cure for Legolas's poison. She needed more time.  
  
"You need to leave now," he insisted. "No one else can be in the building during the meeting."  
  
What was this meeting? Most of the senior Watchers were there, as well as a fair number of junior Watchers -- primarily the Council's yes-men lackeys. But what could they be talking about that was so important they would clear the whole building for fear of being overheard?  
  
In that moment, she made her decision. Stealing from the Council could get her membership revoked, but leaving the book behind could condemn a good man to death. She covertly grabbed the book and headed back to her table. In for a penny, in for a pound. She slipped the poison book in her bag while the librarian wasn't looking, then added the Gevarter texts. Her bag weighed a ton, but she had all the information she needed -- if she could get out of the building with it.  
  
Outside the library, the halls were nearly deserted. What was going on? The Door to the inner sanctums of the Council was closed, she noted as she walked by. That must be where the meeting was held. Uncle Gustav was closeted away in there with a bunch of other Watchers. But why were they in such a hurry to get her out of the library?  
  
She'd have to come back to that, she realized with regret. The strange inner workings of the Watcher's Council weren't her problem at the moment. She had other things to worry about.  
  
She didn't encounter anyone else while leaving the building, and was nearly to her car when a noise behind her made her turn around. She looked back a the building, uncertain as to exactly what she had heard.   
  
Then the building exploded into flames. 


End file.
